


Amidst the Heat

by Anjelle



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Burns, Coffee Shops, M/M, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2361590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjelle/pseuds/Anjelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation sparks the start of a long, hot summer. Well, at least they aren't suffering alone. While trying to escape the heat, Ace steps inside a small cafe. Meanwhile Sabo tries to minimize their financial burden by taking on a new student, but is putting up with him worth it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"Life is a series of coincidences," a blonde stated, stirring his drink with his straw, a bored look on his face. "The simple fact of your existence is nothing more than the product of your parents' first encounter—the result of an affair between a man and woman who happened to meet at a roadside bar."

"That's… depressing," his company replied, staring across the table.

"Is it?" he asked.

"It is."

He smiled. "I find it comforting," he announced, sipping from his cup, "knowing that nothing is predetermined—that my actions will affect tomorrow."

"Don't you want something more? Like, don't you want there to be a reason why you exist? Isn't it depressing to think 'I just am'?"

"Not really," he replied with a shrug. "I was born to live. That's enough for me."

His friend sighed, slumping back into his chair, tilting his head back. Freckles danced across his cheeks as his skin revealed in the sunlight, sweat from his brow streaming down his face. The silence was a clear indicator that the subject was lost, forgotten by the fevered brain of the one sitting across from him. "It's hot."

The blonde let out a shallow chuckle as he lowered his glass back to the table, the clanking of ice sounding through their ears, piercing through the dreaded cry of cicadas. "You just realized?"

"Hush," the other retorted, dropping his head back to the heated surface he was sitting at, "it's too hot for sarcasm."

"Go inside."

"The air conditioner's broken," he whined, eyeing his cup. It was easy to tell what he was thinking.  _'What if I pour that over my head?'_  He'd probably do it, too. "Going back in there would be like sentencing myself to roast in an oven."

"You're exaggerating," the blonde declared, sipping from the cup once more.

"Nope, it's totally realistic."

"Well, it's called a 'heat wave' for a reason, Ace."

"Well that reason can go to hell for all I care."

He rolled his eyes. Only that man could be so dramatic. It wasn't as though he didn't feel the heat—internally he complained just as much—but he wouldn't waste his energy. Ranting about the problem wasn't going to fix it. Still, they needed to find someplace to escape the humid air, the merciless sun. He wasn't partial to getting heat stroke. There was a lot to do before the summer ended; he couldn't afford a trip to the hospital.

" _Shit_ that's cold!" his company exclaimed.

Looking up, he grinned, met with the sight of a drenched youth, ice cubes pooling in his seat.  _He actually did it._  "You're a moron, you know that?"

Gray eyes lifted to meet his, a scowl splitting his sun-kissed skin. "Yeah, well, I'm desperate."

The blonde stood from his chair, leaning forward on the surface before him. "Then shall we take out debate elsewhere?"

"It wasn't really a debate, you know." Despite his words, he raised an eyebrow, showing his interest.

"It could have been," he replied. "Well? Would you like to find refuge or not?"

After giving the other a curious once-over, Ace smirked and nodded his head, rising. Ice cubes rolled from his lap onto the grass, settling amongst the dirt. Grabbing the small cooler at his feet, he neared the blonde. "Let's go."

Pacing next to his brother, Sabo wondered just how long the heat would last. It was the start of a painful summer.

Well, at least he wasn't suffering alone.


	2. Taste

That evening found Sabo seated at a coffee house in the downtown area of the city. He and his brother chose there to escape the ravaging heat simply because of location; it was ten minutes from their place and was practically deserted. None of the tables were occupied, which seemed odd, but they didn't care much after baking in the sun all afternoon. No, anything was welcomed so long as it had air conditioning.

They seated themselves at a booth resting against the window before Sabo assessed the shop. It looked well-kept, neat, which he appreciated greatly. Being a twenty-year-old university student, he rarely went inside places like that. He was more of an 'order Ace to pick him up some tea on the way home' kind of guy. But, that wasn't to say he couldn't appreciate a well-decorated shop. The sepia walls and dark brown, wooden tables were a nice touch, he admitted. There was something about the way the light lit up the room that felt inviting. Even the russet and tan checkerboard tiles were noted. Indeed, it was a comforting atmosphere.

Or it would have been, were it not for Ace's scowl.

Shoving the chair back roughly, he plopped down on the seat and slumped forward, arm holding up his head. Clearly he wasn't pleased. "We're trying to get away from the heat and you bring us to a coffee shop?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

The dark-haired youth was silenced at that, having no witty retorts come to mind. Quiet returned briefly as they scanned the unmanned bar, contemplating the location of the staff. The room filled with a silence so pure that only their own movements cut through, yet it wasn't uncomfortable. In all actuality, it was almost pleasing.

Deciding doing something was better than nothing, the blond removed a folded set of papers from his pants pocket, opening them to reveal glaring black text filed in neat rows. He hadn't a chance to more than glimpse it earlier.

Ace raised an eyebrow as he glanced his companion's way, curiously eyeing the forms in his hands. "What's that?"

"Documents," came Sabo's aloof reply as he leaned on the tabletop, scrolling the words with care and contemplation.

"New student?" he questioned.

Too immersed in his reading to reply, the blond nodded wordlessly. He'd been tutoring regularly ever since his graduation. It brought in a fair chunk of cash since only upper-middleclass families tended to hire him. Sure, his rates may have been a _little_  high, but he had tuition to save for and bills to pay. With the start of summer came a chance to increase his hours and the amount of students that he could take on at a time. One would think that to be the natural course of action for him to take.  _However,_  life could be peculiar at times.

Trafalgar Law.

_That name…_

"Something wrong?" Ace asked.

Sabo let out a deep, airy breath and slumped back in his chair. Why did he have a bad feeling about that application? "I'm not sure yet."

The freckled youth opened his mouth to interrogate further when a shadow cast over their table, drawing their attention upwards to the lean figure of a suited male. He was unique—that wasn't debatable—with his heavily lidded eyes showing that he'd seen it all, a curious head of blonde, spikey hair atop his head, shaved at the back and sides. He was certainly unmistakable.

"Sorry for the wait yoi. We're a bit understaffed at the moment." That distinguishing verbal tick was noted but both remained silent. "What can I get you?"

"Espresso," Sabo replied automatically, earning a curious glance from the man. He always preferred it to regular coffee.

He nodded, turning to Ace expectantly. The freckled youth didn't give his order so readily, snapping his head to look at the posted menu. His fumbling made it clear that he hadn't thought about it during their wait. Well, the guy wasn't really one for caffeinated beverages, anyways, so he wasn't all to blame. The image of him rushing to think of something was nonetheless humorous.

Eventually he glanced to Sabo, silently asking him for advice. When his wordless urging went unnoticed, he faced the barista. "What would you recommend?"

The blond smirked, something sparking in his eyes as he nodded. "It'll be a moment yoi." With that, he turned on his heel and strutted to the back of the store, never once revealing what Ace would be getting.

"Bravo, Ace," Sabo said as he gave a slow, sarcastic clap.

"Did you see his hair?" he asked, not unlike a child as he glanced back at the man. "It's amazing!"

Sabo rolled his eyes but had to agree to some extent. He was more impressed that, despite the man's peculiar hairstyle, he fit his uniform well. Button-down dress shirt, deep, black vest and bowtie—it was definitely more formal than one would expect to find in that part of town, but it suited the barista well, even with his less groomed appearance.

Ace pulled from his gawking as he recalled their previous conversation, leaning forward with interest. "So what's with that application?"

The student blinked down at the papers, his eyes falling on the applicant's name. There were a few things that struck him as bizarre, but the first was identity. "Trafalgar—heard it before?"

"Yeah, I think," the other acknowledged with a nod. "Wasn't some guy with that name all over the news a few years back?"

Sabo hummed in confirmation. Back when he was a freshman in high school the story was everywhere—the tragic deaths of world renowned surgeon and scholar, Dr. Trafalgar, and his wife flew the media into a frenzied mess. There were speculations all across the board, from murder to a double suicide and everything in between. Not long before their deaths, information leaked about the doctor's unethical practices—procedures he performed in secret, hidden away from the world. The case went unsolved and interest over the next few months fizzled out.

That didn't surprise him. What held his interest was that his client wished for him to tutor that man's son.

He didn't even know there was a son.

"What about the Donquixote family?"

"They're that really rich family, right?" Ace thought for a moment before adding, "The one that's related to nobility or some shit?"

Again, Sabo gave a nod. "The request was sent by the family's head, Doflamingo, to teach his charge Trafalgar Law."

"And?" the youth pressed.

" _And_  he asked for my services full-time."

Ace raised his eyebrows. "That's new."

It certainly was. Though the pay promised was definitely worth it, he had to wonder what made the man so desperate for his tutelage. The child of a modern-day genius couldn't be too incompetent, could he? But, with an offer like that, he had to wonder.

A hand interrupted them, carefully setting down two cups, the smaller in front of Sabo, before retreating to the side of the waiter to whom it belonged.

"Thanks," Sabo said, mouth curving into a polite smile.

His companion blinked, looking from his drink to the man dressed in sharp monochrome, silently asking his question.

"Iced café mocha," the older blond answered, "since you're not fond of the heat yoi."

"Oi, Marco," shouted a voice from an unseen source, "come 'ere a sec!"

With that, he gave a quick bow and retreated to the back.

Sabo snickered. So he heard Ace complaining, did he?

The youth in question pulled his mouth into a thin line, watching as the man vanished, leaving the shop deserted once more. They were really lax around there, to leave the front unmanned so frequently.

"So," Ace began, picking up his drink to inspect it further, "What are you going to do about the request?"

The blond sighed, sipping his espresso. "I don't know, to be honest. I'm not too fond of the idea of abandoning my current assignments."

"Then…?"

"I'll meet him, at least. The pay's good, so I can't really dismiss it."

Ace nodded in understanding. Their financial situation, while not dire, was unstable. They were comfortable for the time but with both hopping from job to job it was hardly ideal. Any work they could find was invaluable.

Taking his first mouthful of his drink, Ace blinked, pausing as he registered the taste. "It's… good."


	3. Curtains

"Well, here it is," Sabo murmured, double-checking the card in his hand where an address was scribbled sloppily over one of his brother's doodles—because, at the time of writing it, he could find nothing else to use. He hadn't been too impressed to find that Ace had been using his business cards as surfaces to practice his oh-so-talented artistic abilities. Not that it mattered much…

The house—if it could still be called a house—was easily the most intimidating residence he'd been invited to yet. Put simply, it was huge. Four stories high and covering at least an acre of land, it had enough rooms to accommodate ten families, probably more.

…Was the owner compensating for something?

Sabo shook his head, freeing his mind of any further thoughts that were influenced by his brother's logic to observe it seriously. Having had dozens of students under his care thus far, the blond understood that an important part of tutoring was to understand who he was teaching and adjust his methods accordingly. Observing their living space could help in identifying what they were like and how they grew up. With as large of a mansion as that at his disposal, that Trafalgar Law fellow probably had everything handed to him. He was born with a silver spoon, so to speak. It wouldn't have been surprising if he adopted a rich-boy persona, not bothering to study because he didn't feel the need.

If that was the case, he was dealing with a true moron—one of Ace's caliber. That was a sad, sad scenario.

Stammering up to the front gate, still taken aback by the size of the mansion, Sabo hit the buzzer. There were a few moments of silence before the speaker crackled to life.

"Hello?"

The voice was deep—calm. With that family's wealth, it had to belong to a servant, more than likely the head butler. If Sabo were honest, he'd have to admit that he was a little jealous of the set-up. It wasn't that he wanted servants, but cash like that sounded pretty damn nice. "My name is Sabo. I have an appointment with Trafalgar Law." The butler said not a word, silently pressing him for more information. "I'm his prospective tutor."

"Ah," the man noised, "I'm sorry. Please come through."

With that the gates sprang to life, parting automatically. Now granted passage, Sabo stepped forward into the estate's grand front, though it seemed the house was still far-off. He hated that his visit involved so much traveling. Alas, he hadn't the money to afford a car. The bus ride there was a painful forty-five minutes and the extra ten it took to reach the main building's entrance certainly wasn't welcomed.

When he reached the front door, he was greeted by a tall, pale fellow in black he assumed to be the butler he spoke to. His appearance was striking, his white-blond hair and red eyes being his most notable features.

_Albino?_

"I'm sorry," he apologised again, bowing his head sullenly. Why he was doing that, Sabo couldn't be sure. He simply nodded and allowed the man to lead the way down corridor after corridor. There was something eerie about that place. Every room, every hall, every space had white walls. Not off-white, not cream, not eggshell—pure, unyielding white. It made the tutor feel like he was in a hospital, walking through the intensive care unit to visit a family member who was about to expire.

He shook his head.  _Why such disturbing thoughts?_

In ordinary mansions, one would expect to see lavish furnishings and expensive décor, but that one had nothing of the sort. It was plain, bland and off-putting. In fact, Sabo was so brazen to think that his small, two-bedroom home had better interior design. It was certainly more welcoming. There were no plants, no pictures, no valuables… It didn't feel like someone lived there. Even  _Ace_  put more thought into his living space.

Eventually the blond was brought to a white door, not unlike the countless white doors he passed on his way there. He wasn't sure how he'd find his way back out with everything looking the same as it did. Maybe that was the point. Maybe Trafalgar was like his father, using unwilling guests as test subjects in a slew of unethical practices before killing them and burying their dismembered—

_Focus, Sabo!_

The butler knocked, standing at attention. There was no answer. He wasn't put off by that, though, and repeated the action. Eventually there was a groan, followed promptly by, "Go away, Bepo."

It seemed Sabo had his work cut out for him. Well, that wasn't a first; most of his students tended to be on the slow side. A large percentage consisted of vulgar, uneducated brats with little to no real-world experience—kind of like Ace, in a way. He could handle Ace.

"I'm sorry, Sir," the butler, recently deemed Bepo, apologised again, "but you have—"

Sabo raised a hand, stopping the man mid-sentence, before reaching for the knob. He knew how to deal with self-important rich kids, which he could safely assume Trafalgar was. If his guess was wrong then, well, at least he'd make an interesting first impression. Doflamingo warned him of how uncooperative his new student could be, so being a little forceful wouldn't do any harm.

Ignoring the servant's quiet protests, the blond opened the door, met with almost complete blackness. He cocked an eyebrow, surprised to find something other than blinding white within that place. So the kid was still sleeping even though it was midday? He certainly didn't seem to have many worries if he could indulge so heavily in sleep.

Pacing immediately to the far wall, he tugged at a cloth he could barely make out, pushing it to the side to reveal the bright sunlight of noontime. He heard the student cringe and curse behind him but paid the noise no mind.  _Black-out curtains. Of course._

"Shit," cussed an unfamiliar voice. Sabo turned towards it to see a young man sitting on the bed, legs still beneath the sheets of which he slept. The youth held strongly to his head as though he was trying to keep it from falling off. Finally he looked up, the sclera of his eyes standing stark against his dark skin and gray irises. He looked tired, if not for the fact that he was still in bed then for the dark, black circles beneath his eyes. "Get out," he sneered.

Sabo remained unfazed by his threatening tone and ignored him. He spotted a set of chairs and invited himself to sit, motioning for the other to do the same. "Well? We haven't all day," he stated, adjusting his posture.

"Um, Sir…" Bepo's tiny voice entered the room, filled with unease. Clearly what the tutor was doing was unheard of. Well, he'd always been a fan of spontaneity.

To put the butler's nerves to rest, Sabo gave him a warm smile. "Bepo, why don't you prepare something for the young master and I to drink, hm?" When those red eyes enlarged, the blond knew that the servant understood what he was doing; he was giving the man a chance to escape. Not taking the opportunity for granted, the albino nodded, bowed and promptly shut the door.

Instead of the slew of curses and vulgarities he expected, his client simply glowered at him in silence, as though he was studying him. Sabo didn't mind. In fact, he was intrigued by it. In all other scenarios, only he participated in behavioural observation when confronted with a student for the first time. The other party never bothered. That man, however, was different.

"Who are you?" Trafalgar asked with narrowed eyes, not bothering to remove himself from his sheets.

Now, there were a few different ways Sabo could go about answering that question, but which one would best fit his character? He hadn't seen much of the youth so there was no definite answer. He bore witness to the high levels of irritation exuding from the man and the way his eyes glassed over, as though still partially asleep. But did he have a temper? Well, why not find out?

Curving his lips mischievously, he leaned forward. "I'm your new babysitter."

The glare Trafalgar sent him could kill. He ignored it, though. When faced with privileged brats, he tended not to take their threats seriously.

"You have ten seconds to change your answer," Trafalgar stated, voice hard and full of resolve.

"It is what it is," Sabo said with a shrug. "I'm here to take care of you—bring up your grades."

The teen snorted. "So Doflamingo hired a tutor?" His voice dropped then, to almost inaudible levels. "That dirty bastard…"

"Babysitter," Sabo corrected. Looking the man up and down, he added, "You need more than what a tutor can give." Wearing a black and yellow hooded sweater, spotted jeans and a similarly pattered hat, Law certainly didn't look as wealthy as he was. In fact, he appeared quite dingy. Shouldn't someone of high social standing dress better? "Now, come here so I can begin your assessment."

His only response was his middle finger.

"Very mature of you, Trafalgar," Sabo said, lacing his words with sarcasm.

"I don't take orders from anyone," he stated, voice flat and unyielding, "especially not you."

"You wound me." Sabo's face dropped its amusement, resting lightly on his knuckles. "Then would you kindly join me so we can begin?"

Thoughtful for a moment, Law dragged himself out of bed, cursing under his breath as he stammered across the room before coming to a stop across from Sabo and dropping into the chair. Still his eyes wandered, studying the one he was faced with. "You look familiar."

Closing his eyes, the blond released a breath and turned to face the ceiling-high windows to his right. He looked from behind his eyelids to the sky that showed through the glass. It was such a lovely day out. He wondered how Ace was doing with his job hunt. Maybe he already found a placement. Knowing that man, probably not. He likely wound up distracted by something. Oh well.

"I assure you, we've never met." Again he faced the man, gaze lingering over his darkly-rimmed eyes. Despite his 'fuck off' appearance, he was actually being a lot more cooperative than one would think. "Let's get started, then. My name is Sabo."

"Just Sabo?" he questioned.

"Just Sabo," the blond affirmed with a nod as he opened his briefcase, removing a small bundle of papers. He flipped past the personal information to the third page, containing the details of Doflamingo's request. And what a request it was; he apparently had failing grades in every subject. Normally his students needed help in only math or science. No wonder the pay was so good. "Seems I've got my work cut out for me," he mumbled, giving a sigh.

Law narrowed his eyes, watching the blond with distaste.

The tutor tapped his paper, turning it around for his charge to see. Listed on it was every class he was currently taking and their allocated grades. Nothing was above 35%. It was quite sad for Sabo, considering it meant more work. He'd been hired to reform a delinquent— _great_.

_Fan-fucking-tastic._

"Care to explain?"

Trafalgar leaned back, arms crossed with an almost bored look on his face. "It is what it is," he replied plainly.

Sabo sighed. That brat wasn't going to make his job easy, was he? Well, he was always up for a challenge.


End file.
